Broken
by HaloFin17
Summary: Another fic on Bobby's reflections after Jack's death. Both inspired by and structured around the Lifehouse song of the same name. Please enjoy, and feel free to review!


**Summary:** Another fic on Bobby's reflections after Jack's death. Both inspired by and structured around the Lifehouse song of the same name.

**Disclaimer:** I own no one from "Four Brother," and all rights on the song "Broken" belong to Jason Wade and Lifehouse.

**Author's Note:** Ok, I've had the idea to write a fic around this song for some time now, so now that I've finally got it finished and posted, some big Thank You's are definitely in order. First, a million thanks to **Whilom** for recently posting her own fabulous FB fic "Wish for More" which inspired me to get this done. It's a great fic, I highly recommend it, and perhaps this can even be seen as a complimentary fic of sorts. Also, many thank you's to **Tori** for supporting me in this idea and in my choice of song. I know I can always count on you, my long-lost twin! And last, but certainly not least, I must thank my best friend **Angela**, even though she'll probably never read this, for getting me hooked on Lifehouse all those years ago and for insisting that the song "Broken" was perhaps the best one on the CD. Thanks, Ang!! So, without further ado, I hope you all enjoy this!

**Broken**

Bobby Mercer sat alone in the dark, in a room that wasn't his, and stared at an empty bed. He didn't know what had possessed him to switch on the radio – perhaps the fact that this room's previous inhabitant had loved music so much. Yet now, as the soft chords of a slow, quiet song began to reach his ears, Bobby began to wish he had never activated the hateful device. But neither could he bring himself to turn it off.

_The broken clock is a comfort. It helps me sleep tonight._

_Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time._

Bobby snorted softly. If only that were true, and his clock was broken. It would certainly be better than just sitting here, watching the minutes tick by on their inevitable march toward morning. He did not know if he could face another day – another day alone.

_And I am here still waiting, though I still have my doubts._

_I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out._

How true. Here he was – still waiting, as though he expected his little brother to come walking into the bedroom at any moment and wave off the older man's concerns about his staying out all night after a cheap gig. And what Bobby wouldn't have given right now to enjoy the luxury of concern once more! Concern was of no use now.

But Jack had always put up with him and his cleverly disguised mothering. Somehow the kid had understood that, even though his eldest brother was far from perfect, he truly cared. And that was enough for Jackie.

_I'm falling apart. I'm barely breathing. _

_With a broken heart that's still beating._

_In the pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning._

_So I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm barely holding on to you._

This was clearly the chorus of the song, and Bobby's throat swelled as soon as he heard those words. He tried to shut them out of his mind, to avoid comprehending their significance. He could scarcely bear to hear them, for they perfectly captured everything he had been and had now become. But it was the chorus, and he was bound to hear it again. The song played on.

_The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head._

_I tried my best to be guarded. I'm an open book instead._

That actually brought a smile to oldest Mercer's face, but it also triggered the slow release of the tears that began to stream from his sleepless eyes and fall unheeded down his cheeks. When Jack had first arrived in Evelyn's care, Bobby could remember being stunned by the small, wide-eyed child that had been standing timidly on their doorstep.

Before, he had been rather resistant to the thought of his mother taking in yet another delinquent that had been brought in from the streets and passed around from foster home to foster home. But one look at those big, frightened blue eyes had utterly demolished the older boy's defenses, and over the years, he had allowed Jack into that hidden corner of his heart that none save perhaps Evelyn even knew existed.

_But I still see your reflection inside of my eyes._

_They're looking for purpose. They're still looking for life._

That was exactly why Bobby was here, instead of in his own bed where he should have been, resting his sorrow-worn frame. Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jack. He saw the little kid, and later the young man, whom he had ever teased mercilessly and loved fiercely. Bobby would have done anything, literally anything, to protect the little fairy! Why had he only been powerless the one time Jackie really, truly needed him to be strong?

But in all honesty, the kid never had quite fit in with him, Jerry, and Angel. He was too sensitive, too soft! He had always wanted more out of life, always wanted to leave the old neighborhood behind him and move on to bigger and better things. Jack had been struggling to live the life he had dreamed of, and now Bobby was struggling simply to survive in a life that no longer held any other purpose except pushing through one more lonely day.

_I'm falling apart. I'm barely breathing._

_With a broken heart that's still beating._

_In the pain, is the healing. In your name, I find meaning._

_So I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm barely holding on to you._

There was that chorus again. Bobby squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping past his closed eyelids as he still sought to escape the knowledge of how lost and how hopeless he was without Jack. This whole ordeal had already been far too painful – ever since he had come home. When they were younger, Jack had always come to him after he'd been troubled by nightmares – but no nightmare could ever compare to this dark reality. And there was no escaping it.

_I'm hanging on another day, just to see what you will throw my way._

_And I'm hanging on to the words you say. You say that I will – will be okay._

Without Jack, it was hard to hang on even for one more day. Jack was all that had kept him hanging on in the first place. And now Jack was gone. But if Bobby had told him, back there in the snow, that everything would be okay, Jack would have believed him.

_The broken lights on the freeway left me here alone._

_I may have lost my way now. Haven't forgotten my way home._

Bobby's chest tightened painfully. He should have come home more often, he knew. Yet he had never forgotten those he'd left behind; he had just been in no rush to get back. Hurrying home had never been a pressing priority because he'd always figured there would be time later. Yet now that both his mother and his youngest brother were six feet underground, he realized how truly little time he had spent with them, and with all his family. But it was too late, and they would never all be together again, joining hands in prayer around the table in Evelyn's warm home.

_I'm falling apart. I'm barely breathing._

_With a broken heart that's still beating._

_In the pain, there is healing. In your name, I find meaning._

_So I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm holding on. I'm barely holding on to you._

The oldest Mercer finally gave in and opened his mind, letting the words roll over him. He buried his face in his hands and wept freely, just as he had when he'd first returned to his mother's house only a few days ago. It seemed like an eternity had passed since then – another age. But just as they had been then, the tears were liberating.

_I'm holding on._

_I'm holding on._

_I'm holding on._

_I'm barely holding on to you._

He had always held on to Jack. As much as Jack had depended upon him and leaned on him for support, Bobby needed his little brother just as badly. He would never be the same – would never be whole again.

He sobbed, shoulders shaking with the exertion. "Jackie…" Just like at the funeral, he said nothing more. There was simply nothing more that needed to be said.

Bobby Mercer was alive in that he still drew breath and that his heart still beat. But Bobby Mercer was barely breathing, and that same still-beating heart had been forever broken.


End file.
